We welcomed our lil' man into the family on Labor Day (how 'punny') and are well on our way now to reminiscing and reexperiencing the (lofty) joys of sleep deprivation, hunger, and two-way disputes over who has higher emotional turmoil. Ahhh, a newborn...
But on the other, primary, and very notable side, it brings us the utmost warmth to expand our family. In literal and figurative contexts, this next chapter of our foursome is one way we will continue to spread love across our immediate and extended families & friends. It would be difficult to not feel this way, but I admit, I had been combatting several different nerves surrounding this expansion throughout the pregnancy, and not just by way of the adding a second child to the mix, but adding a child period. The whole process again with a young one: eat-sleep-diaper-repeat; feeling inadequate in the precept of generating a positive mother-baby bond; resenting the fact that my husband cannot lactate but breastfeeding is our preference; crying over the fact that I know my husband is an incredibly devoted caretaker and is my savior in just being there; and ultimately lamenting over my (chronic) guilt about money. Ahhh, parenting...
Each one makes it (or fakes it until they make it) in their own way, and so the said nervous ticks may not resonate with you. I think what any new parent deals with the most is questioning. Questioning so much about their choices, their relationship, their physical and mental states. And now because of the addition of a second, questioning anything from the first time - from yourself and all the other damn parties involved. Deliriously delirious, but happy, so much conflicting information makes its way to you in the first hours and days after the babe arrives. We go about it at a hospital, where there are many nurses, consultants, and services; with an OB practice that has several physicians; with a pediatric practice (same as the OBGYN). At least everyone's on the same page, right? Nope. Not with everything and actually I realized this time, not with a lot of things. All the little nuggets of mixed advice can create a steady increase in becoming more tearful and fearful. "Feed him this many times a day/No this many times," "Sleep when he sleeps/Get shit done," "Do you want the flu vaccine for yourself now?/Eh, get it done later." Note: head spinning.
Fortunately, we are sitting pretty at home now, beyond those first three days of it all and the medical check-ins. And I get to sit here on the couch and blog about our familial shift while my cocoa bean and newest peanut nap not just soundly but simultaneously. Not everything will be so sweet as this very moment, and we certainly will be lathered in more questions from others as we go, but at least I can write with more awareness that not all questions/suggestions carry the same weight or merit. Oliver after all is a natural, formidable being who will root when he is hungry, close his eyes when he is tired, and sooner rather than later ask me questions himself for which I'll be held responsible to answer.
